


Transformation

by redeem147



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-11
Updated: 2011-08-11
Packaged: 2017-10-22 12:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redeem147/pseuds/redeem147
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Angel wins in the alley and moves in with Spike, Willow comes to visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transformation

"So, explain why you get the bed again?" Angel's legs were elevated by the arm of the couch, his feet extended beyond the edge.

"Because it's my bloody bed." Spike rolled over and pulled the pillow over his head. "And it's too narrow for both of us, so shut your yap and get to sleep."

"I can't sleep in the daytime anymore. My body clock's all out of wack."

Spike swung his legs over the side of the bed and walked over to the couch. "I'll wack your body clock, if you don't shut the hell up and let me sleep."

Angel tried not to look at his new roommate. "Would it kill you to put some clothes on?"

"I like to sleep like this. In my apartment. In the daytime. Because I'm a bloody vampire! Now go to sleep, or go find some other digs." He padded back towards his bed, muttering "wanker" under his breath.

"I heard that." Angel's voice grew louder. "And it's only your place because Lindsey paid a year's rent."

"I know that. If you have any suggestions how we can get some dosh and I can send you on your way, let me know. Stealing's out. I guess."

"You guess." Angel's eyes narrowed. "Soul slipping?"

"You're one to talk. Ate any good guardians lately?"

Angel jumped up, confronting the other vampire. "You know I had no choice. It was Drogyn, or both of us. And as for..."

His tirade was cut off by a knock on the basement door. "Who the hell is that?" Spike asked. "More ancient demonic hordes? Didn't get enough ass kicking in the alley, came back for more?"

"Maybe it's Illyria. Or could it be Lorne?" Angel went to the door. "Who's there?"

"Angel?" a familiar voice called. "Is that you? Let me in."

Angel pulled open the door. "Willow?"

"Angel!" Willow gave him a hug, then turned to smile at Spike. "Andrew told me you were..." Her eyes widened. "Spike? Pants!"

"Oh, right." He bent over to pick his black jeans from the floor, then pulled them on.

"I told him not to sleep in the nude," Angel grumbled. "So," he turned to his old friend. "What brings you to LA?"

She looked surprised. "You did. I got a message that you were trying to get in touch with me, then Andrew gave me this address. I didn't expect to see you here, though, Angel. I thought you lived at that naughty law firm."

"Old news," Spike replied, pulling on his t-shirt. "Wolfram and Hart are an ex-law firm."

"Wow." Willow sat in Spike's armchair. "So, where's everyone else? The message I got said something about Fred. Where is she? I'm really looking forward to seeing her again."

Angel crouched down beside the chair and took Willow's hand. "There's some things you should know."

*****

Willow sat with a stunned expression. "I don't believe it. It's just so..." She rubbed at her eyes, not trying to hold back the tears. "God. Wes. And Gunn? I can't..."

Spike looked around the room for tissues he knew weren't there. "They were good men."

"And Fred. She was so sweet. So pretty. But this thing looks like her?"

"Not a thing. Illyria," Spike said. "It... her name is Illyria."

"Illyria helped save our butts," Angel added. "We would have lost the battle without her. But she's dangerous, and we have no idea where she went."

"Oh," Willow stood up. "I could help you. Do a locator spell." She put her hand on Angel's arm. "I'd like to help. I wish I'd been here when you needed me." She glanced towards Spike. "I guess you don't have any magic supplies."

"Not per se," Spike replied, "unless you can locate her with a fine ale." The other two just looked at him. "There's a Chinese apothocary, two doors down from the Korean market. I'll take you."

"Spike, it's only three. You'd get crispy fried. Again. Just tell me where to go and I'll pick up what I need."

*****

She was almost back to the apartment building, clutching her supplies in a large paper bag, when a hand grabbed her arm and spun her around, pulling her into the shadows. "What are you doing here?" she gasped, before everything went dark.

*****

"She should be back by now. It's not far." Spike reached for his duster. "We should go look for her. Sun's low enough now."

"No," Angel replied, "I'll go look for her. You stay here, in case she turns up."

*****

He'd been waiting for hours, and it was driving him crazy. He picked up the X-Box controller for the fifth time, and put it down again. Why was he listening to Angel, anyway? He pulled open the apartment door, ready to head into the evening, when he saw her standing on the threshold. "Get in here," he said too sharply, pulling her inside. "Where were you?"

"Out. Around." She smiled a cheshire grin. "Miss me?" She draped herself into the easy chair, hooking one leg over the arm rest. "You don't need to worry. I'm a big girl."

"Oh, I know. Big strong powerful witch. But this is LA, not Sunnydale. We don't need a Hellmouth, whole city pretty much qualifies." He sat on the couch and stared at her. "What's with you, Red?"

"Oooh," she lazed her way out of the chair and sat close beside him on the couch. "Not very perceptive, are you?" She laced her fingers through his hair, playing with the curls. "I thought you'd catch on right away."

He pulled back from her, horrified. "Oh, god, Red. No."

"You can smell it, can't you? And hear it? Or, I guess not hear it." She took his hand and placed it on her chest. "Or feel it." She ran her tongue across her upper lip, staring into his eyes. "I'm like you, now," she sighed. "Isn't it lovely?"

"No. Not like me." He jumped off the couch and grabbed a stake from the kitchen table.

She was behind him in a flash, her hand around his. "You couldn't do that. Not to me." She whispered into his ear, "Remember that night, under the tower? I told you get up there. Someone was with Dawn. You couldn't save her." She stroked his hand, and he dropped the stake. "You can't save me."

"How...?"

"Gee, Spike. You know how." She was in front of him now, her palms flat against his chest. "You've turned enough people. You didn't tell me how good it felt." Her hands travelled down his body. "You feel pretty good yourself."

He stood, frozen. "Stop."

 

"I don't think so." She licked the side of his neck, and he shuddered. "You're so lonely, aren't you, Spike? I can tell. Living here with Angel. You must hate it."

"This is wrong."

She laughed. "Wrong?" She took his hand and led him to the bed, pushing him down. "How can it be wrong, if it feels right?" Straddled him. "This feels right, doesn't it Spike? Tell me it doesn't feel right." She bent forward and kissed him. He resisted, for a moment, then gave in. "I knew it," she moaned into his ear. "I knew you wanted me."

Reason left him. She was right. He was lonely. Somehow divested of clothes, they tore into each other, rolling and thrusting on the narrow bed, eyes flashing yellow. And she was right in knowing that part of him had wanted her. Wanted the strength that aways lay beneath the shy surface.

She was on top of him, riding him, taking him deep. "She didn't love you, you know. She never appreciated you enough. I'll appreciate you, Spike."

He hesitated at her words. What was he doing? He should be helping her. Staking her. Not this. Not...

But she didn't stop. She squeezed him tight, scratched her nails down his chest, shifted into her vampire face and woke something primal inside him.

He flipped her over, roared, and bit down.

And coughed out the blood. "Willow!"

"Damn." She pulled the lamp off the night stand and hit him over the head. He slumped off the bed, unconscious.

*****

He looked down every alley between the apartment and the shop, and beyond. His heart grew colder as the night deepened. No sign. No scent.

Until he found a bag full of herbs and candles stuffed into a bin beside the market.

"Angel?"

He spun around, thinking he heard a voice. But there was nobody there.

"Angel? I'm trapped. Help me." The voice was fainter this time. He shook it off, sure that worry was making him imagine it.

But it sounded like Willow.

*****

She was lying on the bed waiting for him when he got back.

"Willow! You're here." Then he noticed, and turned his head. "Sorry, I ... could you put some clothes on? And where's Spike?"

"Out." She sat up and gestured him towards her. "Come here, Angel." She laughed. "I won't bite. Much."

"Okay, this is weird."

"Oh, Angel. Silly Angel. Remember when I gave you your soul back?" She stretched, rolled off the bed, and stepped towards him. "Wouldn't it be fun if I got it out again?"

He backed up. "This isn't funny. I don't know what's gotten into you." He looked confused. "Aren't you gay?"

"More like, what's gotten out of me." She had cornered him against the wall, pressing against him. "Like, my soul, for instance." She pulled open the front of his shirt, raining kisses on his chest. "Umm. Now I get what Buffy saw in you. You taste," she looked up, eyes glowing yellow, as her face shifted, "Delicious."

"No. Oh, Will, no."

"You really shouldn't have left me alone with Spike. Poor guy just couldn't control himself. Hey, he should be back soon with dinner and the three of us can ... play."

"I don't believe you. Spike wouldn't have turned you."

"No, I guess not." She pouted at his stern expression. "You aren't any fun. I guess I'll have to dust you too." She lunged for the stake on the table, but Angel was quicker.

The pounding on the closet door distracted him for a moment, and she had her hand on his, wrestling for the stake. Angel twisted his wrist.

"Angel wait!" Spike screamed, bursting open the door. "She's not a..."

But he couldn't stop the stake's momentum. She lay on the ground, life's blood pouring from wound, wood protruding from between her breasts.

Spike was on the floor beside her, cradling her in his arms. He looked up at Angel, tears in his eyes. "She's not a vampire."

And Angel was beside them, pushing the hair out of her eyes. Fearing pulling out the stake would hasten the bleeding. "How...?"

"I didn't know... Didn't think... she hated me so much."

"Who, love?" Spike asked, "Who did this to you?"

"Amy." She moaned. "Spell." Her mouth quirked into an almost smile. "She got so  
strong." She looked at Spike. "I'm sorry. But I... Warren... I deserve..."

"Shhh," Spike sighed. He kissed her forehead. "It's okay. It'll be okay." But the look he gave Angel was devoid of hope.

Angel stared in horror as her heart quieted. As she let out one last breath. As another old friend died.

As he and Spike sat together in silence.


End file.
